Wedding Date for Hire

by Jennifer Shirk

  I can handle anything you want to give me, Trent’s mind suggested. Then he gave his hormones a swift mental slug. What the hell? He was supposed to be thinking of Maddie as a job. A favor to his cousin and business arrangement only. That was all.

  But his gaze still traveled up her pink dress, past her tanned arms and graceful smooth neck, to capture her pretty-as-a-picture—albeit annoyed looking—face, framed by long blond waves.

  “Trent, did you hear me?”

  “Huh? Oh yeah, I can handle that.”

  “No, I said in case my mom asks what restaurant we’re going to, say The Crab House.”

  He quickly pulled himself out of his Maddie daydream and put on his business face. He should at least try and look professional. “Right. The Crab House. Got it.”

  She gave him a long look before nodding. “Are you okay?”

  “Of course.” And he would be. He may have found Maddie McCarthy an attractive woman, but that didn’t mean he wanted any serious involvement with her. She definitely seemed like a marriage-minded woman, and marriage was one thing he was not interested in. At least not anymore. Candace had taught him all those promises of love and forever didn’t mean much. Just pretty talk. Plus, now was not the time to add complications to his life when he should be concentrating on his gyms and, although he barely knew Maddie, he had a feeling “complicated” was her middle name.

  He offered her his arm. “Let’s get this mother inquisition started.”

  She hesitated a moment then slipped her arm through his. “Just remember, I lead, you follow.”

  “Okay, but when we’re dancing at the wedding, I lead, you follow.”

  She sighed dramatically. “I guess I can agree to that.”

  He chuckled. “See? I have a feeling this is the beginning of a beautiful fake relationship.”

  She worried her bottom lip as they walked toward the kitchen together. “I’m sure glad one of us feels that way.”

  Chapter Four

  Maddie sat on the couch sandwiched between her mom and Trent and wished for a 5.0 earthquake. Considering any kind of earthquake was a rarity in New England, she had to settle for the mere hope that her mom wouldn’t ask any more personal questions and that she and Trent could smoothly make their exit within the next ten minutes.

  Her mom took a small sip of Chardonnay and smiled. “So how did you two meet up again?”

  “A friend,” she said at the same time Trent said, “High school.”

  Maddie glared at Trent. Didn’t she mention many times over that he was to follow her lead?

  She grabbed his hand and gave it a warning squeeze. “I think what we both mean to say, Mom, is that we got together through a friend who we both knew in high school. She set us up and voilà, we sort of clicked.”

  Key phrase being sort of.

  Trent threw an arm around her and pulled her to his side. He seemed comfortable playing the part of her boyfriend. A little too comfortable. Probably had lots of escort practice. Maddie reluctantly settled into him and couldn’t help catching a noseful of what could only be described as “essence of male deliciousness”—consisting of whatever soap Trent used mixed with the man himself. She averted her face and tried not to let his scent cloud her brain from the task at hand.

  “We must have clicked. I can honestly say I never jumped into a relationship so fast before in my entire life,” he said with a chuckle.

  Maddie gritted her teeth. One more cute comment like that and Mr. Stand-up Comic was going down. Trent obviously suffered too many blows to the head during football in college. He wasn’t following her direction at all. What was she paying him for? It didn’t matter how good he looked or how freaking fantastic he smelled. He was the worst hired boyfriend/wedding date ever!

  Her mom nodded. “You can’t fight chemistry. And you two definitely have it.”

  We do? Maddie looked at Trent, who shot her a slow wink and ran a caressing hand down her arm. Yowsa. Okay, so maybe the man did know how to do his job well. He certainly had enough “practice” in high school.

  “So, Trent, what do you do for a living?” her mom asked.

  Oh, no. Her most feared question. She wrung her hands. Please don’t say male escort, please don’t say male escort.

  Trent smiled. “I’m the owner of Red Zone Fitness gym downtown. In fact, I opened up two others along the North Shore within the last year or so.”

  “How wonderful,” her mom said.

  Maddie’s pulse began to quiet. A business owner of three gyms was a pretty good cover. She nudged him with her elbow. “Nice,” she whispered.

  Trent looked confused for a second then continued to address her mom. “It seemed like a natural fit for me with my business degree and my love of sports and fitness after I couldn’t play football anymore.”

  Her mom nodded. “Yes, we were sorry to hear about the accident. It’s a shame it affected your health and your career.”

  “Yeah, playing pro ball was a dream that wasn’t meant to be. It was a tough decision, but I suffered too many concussion symptoms after that last hit. It wasn’t worth the risk to my life. At least it wasn’t worth the risk to me,” he added quietly, but Maddie caught the bitterness in his tone.

  Maddie lowered her gaze. She didn’t want to feel sympathy toward Trent Montgomery, but she could imagine it was tough for him to give up on his dreams like that. As much as she wanted to hate him for being such a stuck-up spoiled rich boy in high school, she couldn’t. Not when he looked so dejected, talking about what he could have had. She wondered if that was the reason he got mixed up in the escort business in the first place: in order to fill some attention void.

  Her mom sighed. “It’s so nice that you two got together again after all these years. Maddie had the worst things to say about you in high school. But I suppose she didn’t really know you, and you both were so young.”

  Trent narrowed his eyes, a hint of a smile hovering over his lips. “Oh, yeah? What kinds of things did she say about me?”

  “D-darling,” Maddie sputtered, “does it even matter anymore? I mean it’s all in the past, right?” That’s all she needed was her mom going on and on about every name in the book she’d called Trent when they were in high school. Their fake relationship was on edge enough.

  Trent smiled down at her. “Of course it’s in the past,” he said, patting the back of her hand. Then his gaze shot to her mom again, direct and businesslike. “So what’d she say about me?”

  Her mom bit her lip. “Oh dear. Maybe I shouldn’t have opened my mouth.”

  Yeah, Mom. Way to go. Apparently her curse wasn’t limited to real relationships. The fake ones were doomed, too.

  Then Maddie remembered her lifeline. She tapped her watch and gave Trent a pointed look. It was time to make their exit.

  Trent ignored her.

  “Did she really hate me?” he asked her mom again.

  Maddie held in a scream. Why was he even concerned with how she felt about him in high school? He had more than a few dozen allegiant girl fans back then to feed his ego. She cleared her throat—loudly—and began tapping her watch again.

  That’s the signal, dumb-dumb. Let’s go.

  Her mom frowned. “Is your watch giving you trouble, dear?”

  “No,” she said with a sigh. “My watch is fine.”

  It was the fake boyfriend who was the trouble.

  The man couldn’t take a cue if he was hit over the head with it—which she wasn’t far off from doing. “I, uh, happened to notice the time. Trent and I have dinner reservations tonight.” She turned to Trent. “We should get going, shouldn’t we, honey?”

  “Yes, of course.” He stood smoothly and held out his hand to help her up. “So nice to meet you, Mrs. McCarthy. I look forward to talking with you more at Louise’s wedding.”

  Maddie rolled her eyes. Yeah, right. There was no way he was going to talk anymore with her mom—or to anyone. At least, not if she could help it. She hoped he would be eye candy and no
thing else.

  Her mom beamed. “It was so nice to finally meet you. Have a nice dinner, you two.”

  “Thanks, Mom. Don’t wait up,” she grunted, shoving Trent toward the door, which was no easy feat, since he had to have a good seventy pounds of muscle on her.

  She stumbled out the door, pulling Trent with her, then gave one last wave good-bye to her mom and shut the door behind them. “Okay, what was that all about?” she whispered heatedly.

  Trent raised his eyebrows at her. “What was what all about?”

  “You,” she said, poking him in the chest with each word, “were supposed to follow my lead.”

  He folded his arms and chuckled. “Ah, so you wanted a puppet.”

  “Puppet?” The nerve. Like she was one of those self-serving control-freak women. As if. “That’s not what I meant at all, hotshot. All I wanted was for you to not speak unless spoken to, and if you do speak then you follow my cues.”

  “Right.” He cocked an eyebrow then looked down at her with that all-too-knowing grin. When she felt a responding smile start in her chest, she itched to smack his grin off his all-too-handsome face.

  “We need to be on the same page here, Trent. You can’t keep going rogue on me, or we’ll never survive next week.”

  He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Can’t help it. Quarterback instinct. When I see an opportunity for a new play that will work better, I’m going to take it. It’s called calling an audible.”

  Of course Trent had to make everything about football. She resisted the urge to hum “Glory Days” and checked her watch instead. That little episode with her mom lasted all but thirty minutes, yet she felt as if she’d sprinted a half marathon. They really were going to have to do some homework on each other if this was going to go off without any more hitches. She couldn’t afford for it not to. “Look, I think that if we—”

  But before she’d gotten the rest of her words out, Trent Montgomery’s lips landed on hers with the precision of a military sniper.

  There he went again, going rogue on her.

  Although…truth be told, this time she didn’t mind so much.

  Trent slid his hands up her back and pulled her even closer in to him. Oh, mama, but the man could kiss even better than he could throw a football, and if she had a pair of pompons handy, she could definitely drum up a few cheers at the moment. His mouth moved against hers in a perfect combination of softness and confidence. Gosh, it had been so long since a man had kissed her like this. Really kissed her. She wove her arms around his neck and had to remind herself it was all wrong. Trent Montgomery had tons of women at his disposal, she had hired him for a job, to escort her to her sister’s wedding only. But the hard press of him against her, his hands in her hair, it all felt so right.

  A moment went by before she realized he’d pulled back to look at her. “Sorry about that,” he murmured.

  “Mm-hmm.” Wait. What? He’s sorry?

  “I saw your mom through the window, and I didn’t want her to see us arguing.”

  “Oh,” she uttered lamely. “G-good thinking.”

  Right. That was why Trent had kissed her. Of course. Because he was trying to play the part of her boyfriend in front of her mother. Not because he really wanted to kiss her. Which was fine—perfect even—because she didn’t want him kissing her, either. Why would she? There wouldn’t be any future in it. But she turned away in case the burning sensation in her cheeks could be seen in the setting sun.

  He reached out and took hold of her hand. “Hey, are you okay?”

  “Never better,” she lied. Or she would be better when she finally got away from Trent’s presence. She needed to regroup. The man not only did things to her mind but her insides as well.

  “I don’t normally kiss women without asking them first.”

  “Good to know.” She shook off his hand. She could keep this just as businesslike as he could. “Thank you for meeting my mom on such short notice. I’ll be in touch after the weekend.” And with that, she congratulated her legs for making it down the porch steps and halfway down the brick walkway. He called her name before she made it to her car.

  “What?”

  He cocked his head and sent her a dimpled smile. “Where are you going in such a hurry?”

  Where am I going? “I don’t know. Probably the library.”

  “On a Friday night?” He made a show of horror. “What the heck are you going to do there?”

  “Oh, what most people do at their local library—three way orgy, summon up the dead, if there’s time, jam up the copy machine with Canadian quarters. Same old same old.”

  He laughed. Damn her traitorous insides, because the deep rumbling wound her up tighter than she was already feeling after that kiss. So not good.

  “How about we grab something to eat instead?” he suggested.

  Eat? As in spend-more-time-together eat? Oh, capital-H-hell no.

  Trent seemed to read her mind, because he was already walking over to her, stating all the reasons in favor of such an idea. “Plus, if you want this thing to look as real as possible, we need to get to know each other better. I don’t even know how you take your coffee.”

  “That’s because I don’t drink coffee.”

  “See? This is stuff a real boyfriend should know. I take mine black with one sugar, in case you were wondering.”

  “I wasn’t.” She folded her arms, not wanting to be amused.

  His gaze was steady as he leaned in to her, his voice dipping an octave lower. “Well, maybe there are other things you’re wondering about me.”

  She tried to swallow and realized she couldn’t because her mouth had gone bone dry. As much as her mind was telling her Trent had a good point about them getting to know each other, her insides were telling her he was dangerous to her, too. But since she was never the smartest in her class, her brain finally won out.

  “Oh, all right,” she murmured. “I suppose we could grab something quick to eat. I guess…”

  “You might want to dial down the enthusiasm. My big head won’t be able to fit in the car.”

  Though she tried not to, she gave in to a chuckle. She supposed being amused by his sarcastic commentary didn’t have to mean that she forgave his behavior in high school or that they were now friends. But he was being unusually kind in trying to help and work with her, so the least she could do was not be rude. “Sorry. Dinner sounds like a good idea.”

  “Great. We’ll go to Duke’s on Second Street. My treat. Hopefully they’ll still have some booths available where we’ll be able to talk in private and get to know each other’s idiosyncrasies. I’ll be the best fake wedding date you’ve ever had.”

  Maddie could only nod as she followed him to his silver Land Rover. She had more pressing issues on her mind than being reminded of her sister’s upcoming wedding. Like why she couldn’t shake that pretend kiss of his and what was it that she’d really just agreed to.

  Trent blamed the impromptu kiss he shared with Maddie for his poor decision-making by offering to take her out.

  It was as if his vocal cords had ushered out a dinner invite to her before his brain had any say in the matter. He was supposed to be thinking about Maddie in business terms only. But after taking in those plump lips of hers so freshly kissed, all he could think about was kissing her again. He’d admitted to himself earlier that there was something about her he’d liked beyond the superficial qualities that attracted most men. He couldn’t explain it, but Maddie had an effect on him that he hadn’t felt since his engagement. Maybe never.

  And he didn’t care for it one bit.

  She happened to look up from her burger and caught him staring. “Oh, no. I have ketchup on my face, don’t I?” She grabbed a bunch of napkins and began furiously wiping her mouth.

  “There’s no ketchup.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh crap. Mustard? That’s worse.”

  He smiled. “There’s nothing on your face.” Except pretty rosy cheeks and bright blue eyes. He
cleared his throat and took a gulp of his beer. “Let’s pick up where we left off.”

  Maddie nodded and pushed her plate away. “Now you know a little bit about my sister and mom. And we know how we met up and what you do for a living. Owning a bunch of gyms was a brilliant lie, by the way.”

  “Thanks, but that wasn’t a lie. I do happen to own three Red Zone Fitness gyms in the North Shore area.”

  Maddie stilled. “You do? But I thought…”

  “You thought what?”

  Her cheeks grew even rosier as she fidgeted in her seat. “Uh, nothing.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Maddie,” he said in a warning tone, “did you think I worked solely for Match Made Easy?”

  “Ye—no.” She gave a fake laugh then swallowed hard. “No. Of course not.”

  Trent looked up at the ceiling and sighed. He wasn’t sure if he should feel insulted or flattered that she thought he could actually make a decent full-time living as a paid male escort. She still must not think very much of him. He wanted to tell her he’d changed, that he wasn’t the same self-centered kid he was in high school. Although it killed him not to defend himself and tell her he was only pretending to be a male escort for his cousin’s matchmaking company, he and his cousin had a lot riding on this gig. It shouldn’t matter what Maddie thought about him, anyway.

  But in a small way, it kind of did.

  Maddie bit her lip. “If you don’t mind my asking, how did you end up doing”—she gestured wildly between the two of them—”this?”

  He briefly thought back on his cousin coming to him when she was in college, bright with enthusiasm, telling him about her new idea for a business and begging him to invest. “You could say it kind of found me,” he hedged. And that was about all he could say. If Maddie kept poking around and ever found out he wasn’t an escort and didn’t even hold an escort license, it could spell trouble for his cousin’s business if she decided to take her to court or if word ever got out.